[Verse One: Tame One, El the Sensai][reggae growl] I diss batty bwoys like BujuBanton, rippin wan-tan destructionSag my pants to stop the suction plus it's quicker when I'm fuckinSplit Dutch Master faster I puff izz that causes asthma as dustSome say from NJ, quick to give up papesBeef'll keep it street, defeat niggaz who sleepor reap the concrete status kick your ass with my apparatusThose who, oppose this, split their shit like MosesMy written tabs is rippin fags and the whole bitI murder mics and tape decks, so check it while I wrecks itfar from junkies keep it real because I'm hungry like the Bundy's ("Al!!")Got more rumble than thunder crumple chumps like they was paperEight for keys, make G's, but One of Tame made theseConjunction junction what's your function on the realMy mass appeal is real I swim through beats like Navy SealsIrregular, my style, suckers competitors who think they betterI knit my skit, like my Grandma's sweaterNuts who want to inflict, harm against the charmerBest to rest their case because I wear medieval armorTo protect, my subjects, my style's quite hardNever could you copy cause my style's quite oddSelect the best concepts, context to rhyme textPlus a twenty dollar bet, niggaz flexi wit da tech[Chorus: samples of Jeru the Damaja and BizMarkie]"The tech's technique, cause he's a technician""One two, whatcha gonna do"[x4][Verse Two: El the Sensai, Tame One]I rip rhyme charts apart, I jump-start on the gunnerArrest niggaz like Honda from the under never blunder wonder ifI get stiff, I'm bound to catch an LNah never that I'm down with Tame I'm MC ElLately playin Hurricane G demos in my WalkManI walk and I talk and read issues of The Source andcheck out the dreadlocks in Bedrock puffin indoby the branch like plants, and do the cypher danceThen it's back to the set, to write raps about my epsTakin tokes for the stress as I get flexi wit da techAh, I whip the lyrics up, like batter chatters on the vergeI sink all ships and watch you crabs submergein depths of the boat doper ropes to distortAll sorts of brothers abuse my styles I must abortI do jobs like miles around the necks of the titleI win it hands down and pants down cause I'm vitalThe tech, might you wanna get mad, now freak the planninPlus I flips it skip the handscans I'm woozy when I'm spliftedYeah still high the ill fly, red-eye rundown a semiAutomatic Artifact with knaps causin heart attacksto critics and honeydips, who jeered on my lyricsAnd slept when I dropped that "Do You Wanna Hear It?"Cause from sun-up to sundown, my eyes are red and rundownI still smoke a pound if strong peeps hit the townI'm flexible like every female Huxtable was fuckableImpeccable, dispicable, on point like a decimalPoint twice the joint jumper nicest with the mic deviceMighty like Isis, gimme boom I rips a crisis with the stress(with the stress) unless I'm gettin flexi wit da tech[Chorus]Shut up, you're talkin too loud, you're talkin too loudPeace to the whole city of Newark